The Contest (Part 4)

Month 9 Day 9

(Shore Leave Day 10)

1429 Hours

Bugalu

Previously:

He couldn’t think in directions anymore; all he could do was keep his half-planned route in mind and guide the ship [Two ships, not just one. Got to keep that in mind.] for the next asteroid to hide behind for a few seconds. In this way, he hoped to put distance and several asteroids between him and all those other ships.

Sparks flew from the engineering console again, and the lights went out, came back as battery-powered emergency lights, barely bright enough to see his console. Mac was muttering to herself, frantically working inside one panel and then another. YD and Beth were working quietly at their consoles. Beth looked mildly concerned, YD looked... calculating.

Bugalu cut the rockets, fired a few bursts forward and let the tethered ships coast into the pocket between 2 ship-sized asteroids that tumbled around each other. “How bad is it, Mac?”

“What?” She took a frantic glance at her console in surprise. “The engines haven’t blown yet.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Is the tractor beam holding?”

She considered another section of her console. “It’s stable.” She glanced at a small viewscreen that showed her the view outside. “Have we lost them?”

“Don’t know yet. We’ll have to wait and see if they find us. How are the shields?”

“Can I cut them back to normal? The extra boost is a strain on the engines.”

“Will they hold?”

“Ummm, I think so. But keeping them boosted will make repairs harder, if you’ll let me start that.”

“And observation?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I didn’t get to that yet.”

“Return the shields to normal, then, but be ready, in case they find us.”

“I could use a modicum of power,” Beth stated. “I have a dozen... no, 14 patients. The most serious is burns from working too close to the overheating engines.”

“Med bay, then. Oh, and a minimum of life support, if you can. Got that?”

“Yeah, sure.” Mac punched a few buttons and...

The lights went completely out. Even the consoles were dead.

Mac’s voice trembled. “Is that what happens when the engines blow?”

“No, Colleen,” came Smythe’s voice in Bugalu’s right ear. “The game is over.”

“Bugsy?” The lights came back on, and he could see tears in Mac’s eyes. He heard the door behind him open to let them out.

“Game’s over,” he repeated in sudden relief. That was the shortest and strangest game of Survival I’ve ever played. “You all did a great job, like I thought you would. Don’t be surprised if I ask you to be my crew again next time.”

“Next time?” Mac repeated in abject horror.

“Don’t panic about it,” Captain Burke said as she walked inside. “This is the first time he’s challenged senior officers. Usually, he gets challenged by one of his peers. As for you, MacDowell, I suspect you did well. After all, your engines didn’t blow.”

“Captain-!” Smythe protested.

“That’s not a comment on your abilities, Smitty. I take the blame myself. I’m more used to captaining a voyager class rather than a cargo ship.”

“Cargo?” Beth asked.

“That’s right. We were the Samson, set upon by bad luck, pirates, hotheads and who knows what else? Apparently, this simulation had us getting into the trouble that your team was sent to get us out of. Which strikes me as an interesting concept. I assume we had a possibility of not winding up in the situation where you found us, but of course, your portion of the game had to assume we did.”

YD picked up something off the floor and handed it to Mac. “Oh. Thanks,” Mac muttered to her friend.

“You lost your right earbud?” the captain asked.

“Um, no, not lost it,” Mac returned. “Discarded it. It was... distracting.”

“Yes, they can be,” Burke agreed. “If one pays attention to what comes over it. I think that’s why they’re included.”

The owner of the arcade moved past McGregor and into the game room. “Mr Bugalu, I’m afraid I need to point out Clause 124 of the agreement you signed when you requested me to host this challenge match. Clause 124 pertains to any damages that might happen to my equipment. And plainly, there have been damages done.” He pointed to the engineering console, which had most of its panels open, with wires and circuits hanging out in disarray.

Now that it was pointed out, it caught Smythe’s attention, and he walked over to stand in front of it for a good look. “What a bloody mess!”

I never gave it a thought during the game, but players don’t usually dig into the inner workings of the consoles. Blast, I don’t know if I can afford this.

“That’s my fault,” Mac stated. “How much is it? I’ll pay for it, Bugs.”

“I’m not sure you can afford to,” Bugalu told her. “And after paying for the game, I’m not sure I can, either. Maybe, if we pool our resources...”

“Probably not,” the captain said softly. “And I can’t abide having crew members who obsess over their debts rather than pay attention to their duties. Let me see what I can do.” She walked over to stand beside Smitty.

“We can’t let her pay for it!” Mac whispered as they followed a step behind.

“She didn’t say she was going to,” Bugalu returned. “Keep quiet.”

“You’re right,” the captain told her engineer. “It’ll probably need to be replaced. That will be expensive in its own right, but in the meantime, the game will be down, and I’m sure the owner will want damages for lost game time.” She sighed. “I’m almost inclined to promote Bugalu just so he can get this paid off before he retires.”

Mac opened her mouth, but Bugalu squeezed her hand, and she subsided.

“It doesn’t need to be replaced!” Smitty told her. “Where would we be if every time something went wrong on the Fireball, we had to replace something? Things have been... rearranged, from the looks of it. I’d know more if I had the schematics to compare it to. But I can’t imagine she actually did much damage. Whatever she was trying to do, this isn’t an actual ship, it’s just a console for a specific computer game.”

Mac stiffened as Smythe finished his assessment. “Oh!” The engineer turned at her outburst, and her face turned red. “That... explains a lot.”

Smythe asked, “Surely you didn’t think...”

“No, of course I didn’t think I was dealing with a real ship. But I... got caught up in the game, and when the wiring and the circuits didn’t make any sense... Well, some of them reminded me of Yukosk circuits, so I guess I tried modifying them as if they were Yukosk, and...” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Sometimes it seemed to work.”

“MacDowell, I’m dismayed to hear you are still suffering with confusion between the different technologies,” the captain stated. “I had hoped that confusion would have faded by now.”

“It has!” Mac exclaimed. “Well, not faded, exactly. But I know the difference. Mac fixed it for sure a couple days ago.”

“I see,” was the captain’s careful return. “And who am I speaking to?”

Mac grimaced. “Colleen MacDowell. I apologize. ‘Mac’ is my nick name for Dr McGregor.”